Brooklyn

“Brooklyn, darling, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Wes croons in a lazy voice as I make my way through the crowded room, cheerful people surrounding me. This is supposed to be my party, my time to be happy, to be on top of the world, to relish in the love of this man. Instead, I’m more confused than ever. I thought I had everything figured out, thought I’d made peace with my past and was ready to move on with my future. After seeing Drew, after losing myself in him as we danced together, I feel more alive than I have in weeks, his touch jumpstarting my heart once more.

“I’m not feeling well. I just… I just need a minute.” I keep my eyes lowered so he doesn’t notice the guilt in my expression.

He grabs my arms, preventing me from taking another step. Tilting my chin, he forces my gaze to his. My heart pounds as he studies me, a hidden accusation in the way he scrutinizes me, like I have a giant scarlet A branded on my chest.

“Are you okay?” He leans closer, his lips brushing with mine. No spark. No electricity. No all-consuming need to deepen the kiss. “Are we okay?”

“Of course.” I straighten my spine, blinking. “The doctors warned me against drinking since I’m still dealing with the aftereffects of some of my injuries.” I smile, but it’s as fake as many of these women’s noses. “I just need to splash some water on my face. That’s all.”

He pinches his lips together, seeming to assess my response. Is this how it will always be between us? Will he always wonder whether I’m telling the truth? I know the answer to that all too well. I’ve done the same thing with Drew.

“Okay.” He releases his hold on me. “Hurry back. There are a few more people I want to introduce you to.”

His words more like a demand than a request, I nod, not giving him another glance as I continue toward the ladies’ room. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Mrs. Bradford’s sanctimonious expression trained on me, her lips formed in a permanent scowl of disapproval. For the longest time, I just wanted to be with someone who noticed me, who didn’t make me feel invisible. Now I’d give anything to be able to disappear.

Pushing open the door to the ladies’ room, I barrel inside the private restroom, letting out a huge breath once I no longer feel the burn of hundreds of eyes analyzing me, looking for a fault. Wes never mentioned my indiscretions to anyone, claimed he didn’t want that tiny slip up to define us. But how could it not? How could we both expect to move on and pretend it never happened? As much as I thought I could, thought he could, I realize it’s an insurmountable obstacle we’ll never overcome.

Dizziness overtaking me, I head to the sink, turning on the faucet. As I splash water on my face, there’s a subtle knock. I exhale, about to reiterate to Wes I’m fine when a different voice speaks. This one older, more gruff, one that read me stories and sang me to sleep when I was a little girl.

“Brooklyn, sweetie, are you okay?”

I splash more water on my face, pinching my cheeks so he won’t be able to tell I’m on the verge of tears. “Yes. Of course,” I say in a shaky voice. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

There’s a door between us, but I can sense his hesitation, his reluctance to believe me. Even a complete stranger can tell I’m anything but okay right now.

“Can you open the door? There’s… There’s something we need to talk about.” Something in his tone gives me pause. Normally, I’d insist I was fine, but nothing about tonight, about this entire ordeal, is normal. Not anymore.

I turn off the faucet, dry my face and hands, then head toward the door, unlocking it. “What is it, Dad?”

He opens his mouth, an unusual reluctance covering his face. This man has always exuded confidence in spades. Not tonight. A sinking feeling forms in the pit of my stomach that whatever he wants to discuss is about to turn my entire world upside down. I don’t know if I can handle any more drama tonight. I’ve hit my lifetime quota of that over the past several weeks.

“Can we go talk somewhere? Maybe back outside?” Hope builds in his expression as he awaits my response. It’s strange to have him ask me like this. It’s usually more of a demand, especially in my younger years.

Without saying a word, I nod. Instead of heading back toward the party, he leads me down the hallway, opening the door to the terrace. I glance at the spot where, less than five minutes ago, I danced with Drew, still able to feel the ghost of his arms around me, pacifying me…loving me?

Dad goes to the ledge and leans his forearms against it. I do the same, watching the night darken with every passing second. The wind has increased, the approaching storm getting closer. Thunder rumbles in the distance, a few streaks of lightning illuminating the sky miles offshore.

“You know I love you, don’t you?” he says after a moment of silent contemplation.

I meet his eyes. “Of course. You’re the best father a girl could ask for.”

On a long sigh, he straightens his spine and runs his hand over his weary face. “I loved your mother so very much. When I lost her, it felt like I lost a part of myself. I made it my mission to ensure you never felt the hole her absence left. Everything I’ve done, every decision I’ve made, has been with that in mind, to protect you.”

“I know that.” I grab his hands in mine, squeezing. “I may have hated some of your rules at the time, but I understand why you had them.”

Our gazes remain locked and I can see the forming of tears in the corners of his eyes, his chin trembling slightly. I swallow hard, a chill trickling down my spine. My father is not an emotional man. I don’t think I’ve seen him cry since the day of my mother’s funeral.

“That may be true, but now, my darling Brooklyn, I fear my own heartache may have cost you the one thing your mother always wished for you.”

“What’s that?” I ask cautiously.

His lips lift in the corners. “Love.”

My breathing increases as that word lingers in the air between us. “What do you mean? Wes—”

“Is not the man for you. You don’t love him.”

“What?” My posture stiffens, my lips parting. The one person who’s supported my relationship with Wes has been my father. I need him to support this. “How could you say that? I wouldn’t have agreed to marry him if I didn’t love him.”

My father tilts his head to the side, knowing all too well that my words lack the conviction they should have. “I think we both know that’s not true, that perhaps there’s a different reason you agreed to marry him. To forget about someone else.”

I tear my eyes from his. “There’s never been anything between Drew and me,” I lie. “Nothing worth remembering anyway.” I lift my head, shrugging. “Maybe I thought there was at one point, but I was young and stupid. And Drew turned out to be just like all the boys you warned me about. Only interested in one thing.”

Dad closes his eyes, inhaling a deep breath before returning them to me. “Brooklyn, sweetie, he really does love you. I saw that tonight. Hell, I’ve seen that since you were teenagers. I just… I didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to think my little girl was growing up. I thought I was doing the right thing back then. Now I can’t help but think I’ve ruined both of your lives.”

I lean back, my sluggish heartbeat echoing in my ears. “What are you talking about, Dad?”

He swallows hard, time seeming to stand still. “I know about your history.”

My lips part as I blink, my stomach rolling. That could mean so much. Does he know I’ve always had feelings for Drew? Does he know he came to my rescue that night all those years ago when I was about to make a terrible decision? Does he know I invited him into my bedroom, even though he had a wife and child, only to learn he was still the same Drew who broke his promise to me when I was a teenager?

“I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of, but this…” He shakes his head, his remorse-filled gaze locking with mine. “I saw him kiss you.”

“When?” My voice is guarded as I try not to give anything away. It could be recent or seventeen years ago.

“The night before he left for college. On the security cameras.”

My heart drops, the world seeming to spin around me as another piece of the puzzle snaps into place. I can hear Drew’s pleas to believe him when he told me he didn’t have a choice, that if he could have been there that morning, he would have.

“What did you do?” I take a step back, every inch of my body trembling.

“When I saw that video of him walking you up the driveway, you in nothing but your underwear with a blanket wrapped around you, I thought—”

“What? That it was because of Drew?”

His expression remains even, apologetic.

“Drew would never hurt me, or any girl.”

“I know that now. Back then, all I saw was my sweet, innocent daughter being taken advantage of by someone much older, much more mature, much more experienced. I couldn’t stand the idea of him hurting you, so I did what I thought necessary.”

“What did you do?” I ask again, my voice strained.

He opens his mouth, blowing out a breath as he rubs his temples. When he returns his gaze to mine, it’s filled with regret, shame, heartache. “The following morning, I stopped by his father’s house before I headed into work.”

“You didn’t.” I back away, my stomach churning. I know my father well enough that nothing he had to say to Drew or his father that morning could have been good.

“I’ve spent the past seventeen years wondering if I made the right decision. I convinced myself I did, that I did what any father of a beautiful young girl would do.”

“What did you do?” I ask once more, my voice catching.

“You have to look at things from my perspective,” he begs frantically, rushing toward me. He reaches for my hands, but I avoid his touch. “You were so young. I wasn’t prepared to deal with all the physical changes you were going through. I thought I did what I had to do to keep you safe.”

“What. Did. You. Do?!” I demand a final time, tears streaming down my face.

He swallows hard, his posture slumping. “I told him if he went near you, if he so much as looked at you, I’d turn him in for statutory rape.”

His words rip all the oxygen from my body, heat washing over my face. I continue backing away, shaking my head, feeling like the world is closing in on me, despite the fact that we’re outside. I try to make sense of what he just confessed, but it doesn’t register in my brain. I want to think this is just a dream, that I’ll wake up on my wedding day and not be saddled with the truth that I’ve held a grudge against Drew for seventeen years over something he wasn’t responsible for, just like he begged me to believe. That this man who was supposed to love me and support me caused all the tears I’ve cried. That this man who gave me life is the one responsible for ruining it.

“When I saw that video, I snapped. I didn’t know what else to do!”

“You could have asked me about it.”

“And what would you have said?”

“I would have told you the truth!” I lean into him, my voice growing louder with each word I speak. “That if he hadn’t shown up to that party when he did, something awful could have happened! I probably would have actually been raped! But Drew showed up just when I needed him and hauled me out of there.”

I briefly close my eyes, seeing Drew in a different light now that I know the truth. All those times he came home during school breaks and I thought he was ignoring me because he wanted nothing to do with me. All those times he made me feel invisible. All those times I questioned whether that night actually did happen. It’s all different now.

I lick my lips, my throat closing up. “You saw how upset I was after he left for college, how much pain I was in when I learned he got married, and you still didn’t think you should tell me the truth?!”

“Brooklyn, sweetie…” He reaches for me, but I step back again. I’ve always been a very reasonable person. It takes a lot to upset me, but this is more than I can handle, especially just hours away from my wedding to another man. “There were so many times I wanted to, but… I don’t know. I guess I wanted to believe it didn’t matter, that he didn’t matter. Now, I know the truth.” His eyes lock with mine. “He matters. He always will.”

A weight crushing my chest, suffocating me the longer I remain in this man’s presence, I push past him, desperate for some sort of clarity, some sort of assurance that this information changes nothing.

“Brooklyn!” he calls out.

I stop, whirling around. “Drew was supposed to be my first.” My chin trembles as tears stream down my cheeks, obscuring my vision. “Instead, because you thought you were doing the right thing, do you know who my first was?”

His expression is long as he remains frozen in place, not saying a word.

“His name was Domenic Bianchi. He was a junior when I was a freshman at college.” I take slow steps toward him. I swore I’d never talk about this again, but I need him to understand exactly what his over-protectiveness did. “He was the perfect gentleman on the outside. Good family. Charismatic smile. Active in sports. Volunteered at the local soup kitchen. That’s actually where we met. We hit it off, and I thought he was my chance at forgetting about Drew, about how he broke my heart. Do you want to know what Domenic did?”

“Did he…?” He trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

“Rape me? No. But what he did hurt just as much. I was just a square in a game of Bingo the lacrosse team was playing. Once he screwed me, he had no more use for me. So maybe I would have been able to find it in my heart to forgive you for what you did to Drew. But I’ll never forgive you for what you did to me. Because of you, because of your selfishness, I’ll always have to remember Domenic Bianchi when I would love nothing more than to forget him.” I spin back around, opening the door.

“Brooklyn, please. I thought—”

“That’s the problem,” I interrupt, glancing over my shoulder. “You didn’t think. Every action has consequences. This action, this decision, has ruined more lives than you can imagine.”

A crack of thunder sounds as the sky opens, rain falling around me. I duck back inside, tears streaming down my cheeks, my heart physically breaking that this man kept this secret from me for so long. I have no idea where I’m going, what I’m supposed to do now that everything I once thought to be true isn’t.

The party is in full force as I search the room, people I’ve never met dancing to an up-tempo song, the background music to my world crashing around me. I turn in circles, looking for guidance, a sign, anything. I catch Ana’s eyes as she comforts my father. Does she know? How many people knew? How many people kept it from me because they didn’t think I could handle the truth? Maybe they’re right. Maybe I can’t handle this truth.

I place my hand on a nearby table, ready to collapse from the pressure mounting inside me, when a familiar arm wraps around my waist.

“Brooklyn?” I raise my eyes, meeting Wes’ concerned gaze. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

I swallow hard, desperate to see something in his expression that tells me how I’m supposed to process this new information, to see a love I’ve never felt, to see my future. But I don’t.

Frantic, I clutch his face in my hands, pressing my lips to his. These are lips I’ve kissed so many times, but it feels…wrong. Everything feels wrong.

Cheers and applause echo through the room, all the guests toasting the bride and groom. It makes me kiss him harder, sending up a silent prayer for that bolt of lightning to jumpstart my heart like whenever I kiss Drew, whenever I feel Drew, whenever I think of Drew. But it doesn’t. I feel nothing. I’ve felt nothing since the beginning. I was just too heartbroken to admit it.

My lips lingering on his a moment longer, I close my eyes, a lone tear trickling down my cheek.

“Brook?”

Wes’ voice forces my gaze back to his. I can pretend I love him, pretend I’m happy, but my eyes don’t lie. I swallow hard, trying to find the words I need. Only three words seem fitting for this situation.

“I’m so sorry.”

He studies me for a moment, then his shoulders fall, resignation washing over him. Those words could mean so many things, but Wes is a smart man. He knows why I said them. I bring my hand in front of me, taking my engagement ring between my thumb and forefinger, about to slide it off, when a shrill voice interrupts.

“Sorry?” We both snap our heads to see Wes’ mother storming toward us, her eyes fiery, her lips turned into a scowl. “You’re sorry? Sorry is not good enough, you little slut. I know all about you and that washed-up hockey player. I know you’ve been—”

“Mother, please,” Wes hisses under his breath. “Not now.” With haste, he clutches my hand, dragging me past the crowd of curious onlookers, through the dining area, and into a smaller private function room that’s not being used, closing the door behind us.

I remain motionless, studying him as he keeps his back to me, pinching the bridge of his nose, his shoulders slumped.

“It doesn’t matter how much you love a person.” His voice is quiet and contemplative. Then he turns and lifts his sad eyes to mine. “It won’t stop them from loving someone else.”

“I tried.” I step toward him, urging him to see the truth. “I wanted this to work.”

“Me, too, even though I knew it would probably end like this. I guess a part of me hoped I could love you enough for the both of us.”

I bring my hand to his face, swiping at the few tears that had escaped. “You know it doesn’t work that way.” He melts into my touch, savoring it, as if it’s the last bit of oxygen he’ll ever breathe. “We were always meant to say goodbye.” I raise myself onto my toes, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

Cupping my cheeks, he returns my kiss with the same tenderness he’s shown me since the day he approached me and struck up a conversation. I like to think there’s a purpose for every encounter, every life event, that the people who enter our lives do so for a reason. At first, I thought Wes entered my life to help me bury my past, but I was wrong. He entered my life to make me feel beautiful again. He gave me his love. No limitations. No qualifications. Just pure, untainted love. Better yet, he taught me it was okay to love again, to take a risk on love again. For that, he will always have a special place in my heart.

“I’m glad you figured things out.” His voice is filled with masked pain. As much as I wish I could take away his heartache, his anguish, I’m not the one to do that. Not anymore. “He loves you. I noticed it in his eyes the day I first saw you.”

I blink back my tears. “I didn’t think he did, or maybe I just thought it was too good to be true, that he’d just break yet another promise, but now…” I shake my head.

I’ve lived the past seventeen years of my life never being able to trust a single word out of Drew’s mouth because of that one broken promise. Or what I thought was a broken promise. Everything’s different. Everything he’s ever done, ever said, has a different meaning.

“Now I know he does. He always has.” I draw in a long breath, glancing back at my left hand. I slide the ring off my finger, holding it toward Wes. “I need to go after that. I can’t run from it anymore.”

He’s reluctant as he reaches for it and takes it in his hand. “I can respect that.”

I clutch his face, the pads of my thumbs swiping his tears. He brings a hand up to mine, exhaling a long breath before pulling away, forcing me to drop my hold on him.

“So what are you going to do now?” I ask, not wanting to leave until I know he’ll be okay.

“You mean after running damage control with my mother?” He chuckles, cutting through the tension.

“Oh god, Wes.” I cringe. “I’m so sorry. I’ll go back in there, try to explain things—”

“It’s okay,” he assures me with a forced smile. “This won’t be any worse than when my sister eloped a week before her wedding.”

“The last thing I wanted was to hurt you, then leave you to clean up the mess.”

He shrugs. “It’ll give me something to do. Who knows? Maybe this is the universe trying to tell me it’s time to head back to Georgia. Run the company from there instead of struggle to do it up here. You were my reason for staying. But now…” He trails off, his words caught in his throat. I try to blink back my own tears, unsuccessfully. Stepping toward me, he brushes his finger against my cheeks, erasing my tears. “Now maybe this is the chance we both need for our new start. My meemaw used to always say, ‘Each day is a new chapter that’s yet to be written so make the most of it.’ No matter how much this hurts, I plan to make the most of this next chapter. I hope you do, too.”

Overwhelmed with how understanding and humble this man is, I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, pressing my lips back to his. “Thank you, Wes.”

This time, he doesn’t kiss me back. Instead, he leans his forehead on mine, inhaling.

“I did love you,” I say, hoping it gives him the small slice of the comfort he needs right now. “I still do.”

“Just not like you need to.”

I slowly shake my head. “No.”

On a shaky inhale, he gradually pulls away. I release my hold on him, my fingers tingling from the lack of warmth. We’re all wrong for each other, but that doesn’t mean my heart isn’t breaking at the thought that this will be the last time I see him, the last time I touch him, the last time I hear his soothing voice.

Wes leans against a long banquet table, running a hand over his face. I take this as my cue to leave and start toward the door.

“I’ve been scared of losing you since the day you agreed to that first date.”

I glance over my shoulder, but remain silent. There’s nothing I can say that will dampen the pain. I’ll only make it worse.

“But you were never mine to lose in the first place.” He pulls his lip between his teeth, the despair covering him almost more than I can bear. Then he meets my eyes. “Live a good life, Brooklyn. And do all the amazing things I know you were put on this earth to do. Just know, no matter what, you will always have a piece of my heart.”

His words unleash the waterworks once more. I want to hug him, assure him it’ll be okay. Instead, I nod and say the only thing that seems meaningful at this moment. “Thank you.”

Without another look back, I walk away from Wes and toward what I hope will be the next chapter in my life.